


Dad

by NairobiWonders



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, post season seven, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: Posted first on Tumblr but I’ve made some very minor tweaks and corrections.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Joan Watson (Elementary)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 147





	Dad

Sherlock gave the stew one more stir and lowered the burner. “Flavoursome and nutritious,” he declared it.

Joan reached for the bowls, “Let’s see if we can get Arthur to eat it.”

“Oh he w...” 

“Daddy! Dad!! DAD! Come quick! Hurry! I need you .... Please! Dad hurry!”

The cry from upstairs startled both of them. With a clang, Sherlock dropped the spoon and tore up the stairs with Joan at his heels. 

“Arthur! I’m coming!” Fear shook his voice. 

Barreling into the library, he stopped short. Joan came to a stop behind him. 

The boy stood practically vibrating with happiness. “Look! I did it! I did just what you said and look!” His little hands waved as he presented the house of cards, almost his height, standing slightly askew before him. “I was afraid it was going to fall but it didn’t!”

“That’s wonderful Arthur!” Joan jumped in as Sherlock tried to compose himself. 

“Yes. Excellent work,” he extended his hand in congratulations. Arthur bypassed the hand and went straight in for a hug. Joan watched barriers drop as Sherlock relaxed and reciprocated the child’s embrace. 

“It took a while but he finally got to sleep,” Joan sat down on the library sofa. Next to her, Sherlock quietly nodded acknowledging her statement. 

He’d been obviously, at least to her, preoccupied during dinner and the tenseness lingered. They sat in silence until her words spilled softly, catching him off guard. 

“I’ll talk to him. He’s old enough to understand.”

Confused, Sherlock glanced at her, “Talk to him about what?”

“Calling you ‘dad.’ We agreed on ‘Uncle Sherlock’ ... it’s not fair to force you into a role you didn’t ..”

“Arthur may call me what he wishes. The sentiment in the appellation was genuine. Do not chastise the child.”

Joan knew him. He slipped into formalized language as protection. She waited. 

“Arthur calling out to me today ...” he stopped and cleared his throat. “His cry for help, or what I assumed was a cry for help, brought to the forefront what I have been uhm ... feeling ... for some time now. Panic.” He stole a glance at her and quickly looked away. “I fear for the child. He is small and vulnerable and if I could I would be at his side every minute of every day to protect him from all the chaos and pain and evil that might cross his path. It is a feeling I’ve encountered before ...” He stopped and looked at her, “... at least you’re an adult, able to protect yourself and I trust your judgment. He, he is so small and unaware. So much could go wrong and instead of being rational, of observing, listening, understanding, I let emotion carry me away... I don’t know... I don’t think I’m fit to carry the title he bestowed on me today”

Joan reached and placed her hand over his. “I think what you’re feeling is normal. I am constantly in a small panic. All parents want to protect their children. You worry about them night and day, teach them the best you can, try to keep them safe and hope.... Its not easy. And I understand if it’s something you don’t want to live with.”

“I wouldn’t want to not live with it. Don’t know how I could ever ... ” He sighed and adjusted his hand so that hers fit within his grasp. “If you will temper my madness with your sanity, I’d like to try.”

Joan leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder. “I will, if you’ll do the same for me.”

“Mommy?” Arthur’s voice travelled down the stairs. “Can I get a drink of water?”

“I’ll be right there.” Joan got up; still holding her hands, they went upstairs.


End file.
